


Without You

by soggyturtle



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, takes place after game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggyturtle/pseuds/soggyturtle
Summary: Nathan Prescott is broken.Warren Graham thinks he can fix him.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for stopping by! This is my first work for this pairing, and I've been working on it for a long time now. It was originally posted to Wattpad, but I've decided that I would like it to be on here instead. I am very excited to be posting this, and I would really like it if you left comments and kudos! So, feel free to say anything you like down there and give me a kudos if you enjoyed! It really means a lot.
> 
> \- Ruby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren finds Nathan.

Terrible.

  _Drip._

       Disappointment.

       _Drip._

       Failure.

       _Drip._

       Crazy.

Nathan Prescott watched as each drop of blood ran down his arm, around his thin wrist, and off his fingers. The sounds of whales playing from his speakers were doing nothing to drown out his thoughts and calm him. He took a final drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out on his old nightstand. He was crying.

Nathan's half-lidded, puffy gaze was lazily set on the plain ceiling of his dorm room. He ran his nails roughly over his head and hit it repeatedly against his headboard. Nobody would miss him if he killed himself. Nathan knew that. Maybe Victoria or Hayden would cry for a day or two, but that'd be it. He would be forgotten. No one would miss the weird kid with anger issues who spent three months in a mental hospital. Maxine had told him that she'd be there if he ever needed to talk to someone, but Nathan knew that she was too distracted grieving the death of Chloe to try and help. 

Chloe. The girl he murdered.

 _Kill the rich kid_.

He'd seen he message around school. It was written everywhere; the lockers, bathroom stalls. Somebody had even written it on his whiteboard outside his bedroom door.

Nathan added another cut to his once smooth flesh. His sobs were now louder than his music, but he knew that no one would hear him. The students of Blackwell were having a bonfire down at the beach that evening, and no one would even care enough to check on him.

•••

Warren Graham pulled open the door to the boys' dormitory, muttering angrily to himself. The bonfire was in full blast, but he soon got bored when Max started ignoring him to talk to Kate Marsh and her new friend Victoria Chase. So, he left, deciding it wasn't his scene and that he'd be better off in his room studying for his chemistry exam.

The dorm was silent as he made his way up the stairwell, but when he opened the door to his floor there was a slight thumping noise. Warren figured one of the guys had also left the party early, but brought a friend with them.

He hummed to himself and pulled out a small key to open his room. He had just opened his door when a loud cry echoed through the hallway. The sixteen year old jumped, effectively dropping his keys.

"Ow, _fuck_!" he heard. Warren looked down the hall and followed the light thumping. He landed in front of the dorm two doors down from him. Nathan Prescott's room.

Warren didn't know Nathan very well, if at all. He'd seen him out with Victoria, and apparently he was friends with Max. Warren tutored his friend Hayden once and knew they were kind of close. He raised his hand and knocked quietly.

The thumping stopped abruptly, followed by the clumsy shuffling of feet. Warren knocked again.

"Nathan, you okay in there?" he called. Nathan cursed loudly, his voice closer to the door than Warren expected. The younger boy heard scratching against the handle, and then a light thump.

"Yep, yeah," Nathan said, voice hoarse, "All good." 

"You sure? You don't sound okay..." he trailed off. Warren had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and his palms started to sweat. "Hey man, is it cool if I come in?"

"No!" Nathan yelled quickly. "I mean- _awe, shit_ \- no, thank you."

Warren chewed his lip before moving away from the door. "I'll be in my room if you need anything," he said. Warren quietly returned to his room, leaving his door wide open. He spun in his desk chair, waiting for any indication that something was amiss.

After a minute or so of silence, he perked up at the sound of a door opening. There was a small string of curse words that told Warren that it was Nathan, and he watched as the eighteen year old ran past his open door. The older boy slipped by, to the dorms restroom. Warren shuffled onto his feet, and jogged down after the boy, but paused in front of the swinging door.

There was a balled up tissue on the carpet, covered in blood. Warren's eyebrows furrowed, and he opened the bathroom door. The sick feeling in his stomach worsened as he saw Nathan hastily wiping at his forearms. His sobs made Warren's throat close up, and he took careful steps toward the other boy.

Warren used to get teased in grade school for being sensitive. He'd cry about dead bugs, and then get beat up for it later. Sure, he loved gore  and horror, but he knew it was all fake. Warren saw how real this was.

"Nathan?" he whispered.

"What the _fuck_ do you want, Gayram?" Nathan croaked. He swiftly rolled down the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Warren blinked and dragged his eyes away from the shorter boy's cuts. He coughed, once, twice, and cleared his throat.

"Wh-what is that?" Warren whispered, ignoring his offensive nickname. Nathan balled the bloodied paper towels and tissues up, tossing them into the waste bin. He turned back to Warren with a glare.

"Get outta my way, nerd," he said sternly, stepping forward. He crossed his arms and flinched slightly. Warren didn't budge, just looked at him with sad, foggy eyes. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I don't need your fucking pity."

"I-I'm not...I don't-"

" _Whatthefuckever_ , _Gayram_ ," Nathan's eyes started to tear up again.

"Don't call me that," Warren muttered lamely. Nathan's fist shot out fast, attaching itself to the taller boy's hair. He slammed Warren's head into the wall next to the door.

"Huh? What was that, you little punk! You think you can tell me what to do? I'll say what I damn well please," Nathan yelled.

Warren shut his eyes, whispering pathetically, " _Sorry, I'm_ _sorry_." Nathan's eyes widened in shock, and he glanced at his hand.

"Oh god," he said, releasing Warren. He placed his cold hands over his face, and sobbed. "I'm sorry, Warren, I'm so sorry." He stepped back quickly, and looked at his arms. The sleeves were drenched in blood. He pulled them up quickly, and ran them under the cold faucet water.

Warren wiped at his damp eyes and quietly left the bathroom, but immediately returned with a first aid kit. He put on the rubber gloves and came up behind Nathan. He gently moved him towards the far wall, and sat him down on the floor, grabbing his hands.

"Nathan, I'm going to clean them, alright?" Warren asked. Nathan nodded, his head hanging against his chest, eyes blank. "It might sting." Warren cleaned Nathan's self inflicted wounds silently, and when he finished he threw everything away and sat with him. Nathan cried.

       "Nathan?" Warren spoke, his voice echoing in the bathroom. He was silent, but he started to slump over Warren's lap. "Hey, dude, you gotta stay with me, okay?" He tapped Nathan's cheek softly, and then harder. Nathan's eyes fluttered shut.

       "Mother-" Warren ran a hand down his mouth. The boy next to him was pushed against his thighs, and Warren cursed. He picked up the painfully light boy, and dragged him back to his room. He kicked the door open, pulling him in and laying him on his  bed.

       "Come on, Nathan," he shook him. "You gotta wake up, buddy."

       He got no response, so Warren nervously brought his hand up to the boy's neck, feeling a strong pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief, and sat on the floor next to the boy's bed. He took that time to glance around Nathan's dark bedroom.

       Thin streams of yellow lamplight came in though the closed blinds. Everything was shrouded in darkness besides the bed and a computer on his desk. The slideshow on the desktop was a series of black and white photos, obviously taken by Nathan. Multiple were of him and Victoria, but others were of dead animals and dark scenes.

       Nathan started to stir, but Warren was momentarily distracted by the photo that had come up. It was a picture of himself. It was taken from far away, and more colorful than Nathan's usual photos. Warren was laughing in the picture, both hands were on his stomach, and Max and Chloe were next to him. Max had just dumped a bucket of water over Chloe's head, and she was practically in tears. Chloe on the other hand had a firm scowl on her face, and Warren's eyes watered up seeing his deceased friend's familiar facial expression. Max smiled a lot more when Chloe was still alive. The police said that it was a gun malfunction when she was at the junkyard or something, but Warren had a sickening feeling that that wasn't true.

       "Warren?"

       The young man broke out of his stupor, and turned around to see Nathan there. His head was hung, light brown hair mussed from maneuvering on the bed. He was twiddling his fingers nervously.

       "Look man, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off on you- and I mean, I didn't...I...sorry," he sputtered.

       Warren sniffed, and Nathan's head immediately shot up, eyes searching the younger boy's face. Nathan's heart clenched at his sad expression. His brows furrowed, "Are you crying? I- I didn't mean to-"

       Nathan pulled his hand up, brushing away Warren's tears. He pushed the boy's hair back, but stopped when he heard Warren whimper. "I'm sorry, Warren, I really didn't-"

       "Just, shut up," Warren shoved him away. "Don't touch me, man." Nathan's eyes stung, and he moved back, quickly looking away. He's ruined it. Any chance he might've had with the nerd, shattered. The crush he had on the freaking dork was the most precious thing to Nathan. It was the only thing that could make him really smile anymore, and he just destroyed it. Just like everything else. He's so stupid. _So, so stupid_.

       "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Um, thank you for your help, you can, uh, you can leave now."

       Warren completely ignored him and stepped forward with a surge of anger. "Why do you have a picture of my friends and I?" He swallowed.

       Nathan forgot he had taken that photo. Hayden had suggested that he attempt to take brighter and happier photos. When he saw the three friends hanging outside of Blackwell, he couldn't help the tingles he got in his fingers. The feeling always came over him when he needed to take a picture. So, he took one, and decided he hated it. But, he kept the picture anyway. His crush on Warren developed slightly after he took the picture of him and his friends. He started to notice the annoying little punk, and couldn't help but feel himself liking the kid.

       "I don't, I don't know," he mumbled. Warren gripped Nathan's jaw tightly, making him look in his eyes. Nathan licked his lips which were suddenly dry.

       "Why do _you_ have a picture of Max and me, of _Chloe_?" he whispered. Nathan whimpered at the sound of the blue haired girl's name. He started to cry again. _God, he was such a fucking wimp._

       "I'm so sorry, Warren," he said, attempting to swallow his tears. "I was just trying a new type of photography, and you guys looked so happy...I didn't know you were ever gonna see the photo." His voice wavered, "You probably think I'm some creep now, so, thanks again, but please leave."

       Warren didn't move, and Nathan brought his hands up to his eyes and pressed until he saw spots. "Please. Leave," he said through gritted teeth. Warren released the boy's chin, and stepped away. He walked and opened the door, glancing behind him one more time to see Nathan crumpled on the floor, and the injured boy spoke up.

      "Please don't tell Victoria or Hayden about this," he said, turning to look at Warren.

       Warren nodded, and zipped his lips with his fingers. Nathan let out a shuddering breath and watched as Warren left his room.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan tries to change.

Warren came back to the dorms angry. Again. He'd been in a permanent bad mood since the mishap with Nathan, but today, he exploded. He yelled at Max twice, and finally decided to just leave when Kate spilled her glass of water on his lap.

       He stomped down the hallway, a foul expression across his face, and he slammed his door shut. The frame rattled and so did the rack of movies next to it. He paced his room and tried to take deep breaths.

       He just got so annoyed today. He was angry and confused, and he just wanted to punch a wall; especially when he thought about Nathan.

He sat on his bed, its frame creaking beneath his weight, and dragged his hands through his messy hair. He should call his friends and apologize for being rude, but he couldn't find the strength to do it. He was embarrassed by the way he had acted, and didn't want to talk to them for a while.

        He picked up his shower supplies and decided that a nice, hot rinse would do the trick to calm him down. So, he headed out of his rooms and down to the showers.

       He sighed with a small smile on his face when he saw that no one was in there, so he undressed quickly and and got into one of the stalls.

He stood in the hot stream, deciding to stay in there until it ran cold, and trying to clear his mind. Think about nothing until it got cold. The second it did, he turned the shower off, and attempted to towel dry himself. He then redressed, ignoring his slightly damp skin, and wrapped his hand around the curtain.

       The door that kept the bathrooms and the rest of the dorm separate busted open, and he froze, peeking through the crack between the wall and the curtain. A hunched over figure in a dirty, red jacket came in, slamming their hands down on the sink as they bent over it. Nathan's arms were shaking, and Warren could tell that it was from anger.

       He pulled the curtain back slowly, it squeaking against the rail. He looked toward Nathan, and he glanced up, his gaze meeting Warren's in the mirror. Warren took notice that Nathan's right eye was red and turning a bit purple, his bottom lip was busted open. He looked down at the smaller boy's hands and his heart clenched. His knuckles were busted and bleeding, and he had scratch marks up and down his dirty jacket.

       Nathan didn't say anything as Warren merely directed his gaze elsewhere before putting his head down and leaving. The younger boy walked back down the hallway and tried not to think about the wounds on Nathan's face. He didn't want to think about him, or anyone, getting beat up, or laying on the ground, hurt. But, his brain was conjuring up images of Nathan getting into fights, and he sat down on his bed when he got into his room.

       He was utterly confused about why Nathan was the only thing he could think about. Yeah, he was still slightly mad at the the older boy for taking that picture of him and his friends without permission, but now, there was a feeling of emptiness with it. He felt the need to keep watch of the other boy. He had noticed that he wasn't exactly a model-student before, but now he was really paying attention. To the way he'd look after one of his countless fights he got into, or how he didn't seem to like who he hung out with.

       A knock sounded at his door, and he looked at it. Whoever was on the other side knocked again, getting impatient, and he got up. Warren pulled it open roughly, a scowl on his face.

•••

       Nathan watched from the end of the hall as Kate Marsh and Max Caulfield stood in front of Warren's door expectantly. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a moment, Warren stepped out of his room and was enveloped in a hug by the two of them.

       He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pretended to be disgusted with their not-so-public display of affection, but he couldn't help the way his stomach clenched up. He secretly wished someone would hold him like that. Anyone. Someone that would hold him just to numb the pain for a little bit.

He stood up from the wall, and stalked into his bedroom, leaving the friends in the hall. He opened his blinds, which was rare, unlocking the window as well. It was sunset in Arcadia Bay, and his open window let the steady sea breeze in. A warm glow was cast over his room, and he thought that if he were anyone but himself, the room would look cheerful to him.

       Disregarding the bondage posters of course.

He removed his shoes and jacket, and rested them next to his desk. He changed into a pair of sweatpants, and clicked on his stereo, the whale noises spilling out. They were loud, and clouding his mind. He quickly removed the CD, the sounds making him want to burst into tears. He changed it to a radio station Victoria liked to listen to, and let the soft guitar consume him. He went back to his bed, laid down, lit a joint, and stared at the ceiling.

After Warren had found him, he had taken the last two weeks to do some things. He was absolutely humiliated that anyone had found him at his lowest, especially Warren. He had thrown away his razors, which was hard, and tried to cut back on the smoking. Of course, the second thing didn't work out too well, as here he was, doing just that. But, he had been doing his best about the cutting. His arms were scabbed over and they were slowly fading away into scars. Ghosts. He hadn't wanted to pick up a blade so far, but every now and then, his fingers would itch, and he'd resort to biting his nails. He'd have to work on that.

He'd felt as if he'd hit an all time low when the younger boy had seen what he'd done to himself. It made him feel sick, like there were a million moths going to spill from his lips at any moment. He didn't want that.

When he finished his joint, he sat up in bed, swaying. He wasn't exactly high yet. Mostly tired, but he the edges of his videoon had started to blur. He decided to light up another one, and laid back in bed, letting the drug consume him.

He felt as if he finished that one much faster, and he opened his eyes to see his room was hazy. He got up, dragging his heavy body toward his desk, and opened the window more. His head was swimming in what he had deemed the greatest thing he'd ever felt. In his euphoric state, he was so very calm. He was so fucking angry and sad all the time, he couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't be that way when he was with himself. So, he had told himself to relax when he was alone and try to make his feelings go away.

He took care of most of the feelings, forcing them out of his system, but the weed washed away the remaining few.

The throbbing he had been feeling on his face was dull now, the blood on his lip dried. His knuckles were still bleeding sporadically, the red seeping into his dark comforter. He took deep breaths, his vision becoming tunneled as he gazed at the ceiling.

       A knock on his door broke him out of his dream world, and he got up to open the door.

       "Can you turn your music down? It's really loud," Warren said irritably. Through Nathan's hazy eyes, Warren's angry, red face looked hilarious.

He started to giggle uncontrollably.

"What the hell are you-," Warren spat, but his eyes got wide. "Are you high?"

"Your mom's high," Nathan mumbled, laughing at himself. He turned around, glancing at his smokey room and raised an eyebrow at Warren. "Obviously, dipshit. You got a problem with that?"

Warren crossed his arms, staring down at him angrily, another emotions swirling around his gaze Nathan couldn't figure out. He ignored it and leaned lazily against the door frame.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? You constantly get into fights, you smoke like crazy, and you cut-" Warren was cut off by Nathan's hand over his mouth. He was pulled into the room, his eyes watering at the smell, and Nathan slammed the door. Next he pushed Warren's body against it, hand still securely on his mouth.

"You don't speak of that," he said surprisingly clearly. "People can't know that I do- did, that. They'll look at me like I'm still sick and crazy, or worse, they'll pity me."

Warren kept quiet as Nathan seemed completely aware of what was going on around him now. He let go of the boy, moving to turn down his music, and stalked towards his desk. He sat down, hands running through his usually well-kept hair. His head was pounding and his eye hurt again.

"Fuck," he muttered. He reached into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a bottle of aspirin and dumping at least half the bottle in his hand.

He was about to take them when a hand settled over his, covering them up. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked up at Warren with a glare. The younger boy's eyes were cold, the brown looking like gold in the setting sunlight.

"Don't," Warren said. "If you take too many at once, it can-"

"Shut up, Graham," Nathan growled, standing up. "I know what I'm doing."

Warren grabbed the pills from his hand, pocketing them, then grabbed the pill bottle as well. "No, you really don't. Turn a fan on to clear the room, then take a shower or something, man."

"Stop telling me what to do!" he yelled.

Warren put his hand on the other boy's shoulder, brows drawn. "Nathan."

And, it was as if Warren muttering Nathan's name was a spell. He immediately sat back down, turning to click his fan on. He then stood up again, grabbing his shower supplies before heading to the door.

       "You can let yourself out," he whispered, shaking his head. He didn't wait to see if Warren heard him or not before leaving his room.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren has a crisis.

Nathan finished his hour and a half long shower, and left the bathroom. It was already dark outside, and his nightly headache was slowly creeping in. He didn't feel like he was floating on a cloud anymore, but he didn't feel completely normal either. Why was it that Warren had to find him at the worst possible times?

He went back into his room, everything smelling faintly of weed, but the warm night air carrying something different into his room. There was a small whale night light he had gotten for his seventh birthday next to his desk which casted a blue glow in the room. It clashed with the yellow from the nearby street lamp, but he thought it looked nice. His freshly cleaned skin that was still damp felt amazing as the breeze flowed over it, and he sighed.

He changed into a pair of boxers, and an oversized t-shirt, deciding he would leave his window open. He put his fan on low and stumbled through the darker parts of his room to his large, cool bed. He laid down gently, and stayed on top of the blankets, taking deep breaths for a moment. All of a sudden, he heard a noise right next to him.

He laid their frozen, scared out of his mind as it murmured again. Something soft stroked over his left arm, and he yelped, jumping up quickly. He practically flew across the bed, turning on his lamp and turning around to smack whatever the fuck had just touched him. He stopped short, his hand centimeters from the sleeping boy's face.

Warren was fast asleep on his bed, curled up on the left side. He mumbled softly to himself, small snores coming through his lips, and Nathan didn't think he'd seen anything more adorable. He recalled muttering something about him letting himself out while he was gone, but all of his thoughts vanished as he gazed at him.

He stared at the steady rise and fall of Warren's chest, and the way his fingers would twitch every few seconds. He would itch at his nose like a kitten, and say something again making Nathan smile. A true, genuine smile. One with eye crinkles and everything.

Sadly, he had to get the boy out if he was going to attempt to get any sleep at all.

He settled his hand softly on the youth's shoulder, shaking slightly. "Warren, wake up."

Warren groaned, reaching a hand up to brush Nathan's off. He shook harder, and Warren just grabbed his hand and pulled causing the shorter boy to stumble into bed. His face was a breath away from Warren's now, and he tried to regulate his breathing. He pull his hand away from the boy's iron grip, and turned off the light. He went around the other side of the bed again, and laid down, pressed up against the edge. He flipped around to face the boy, and smiled at the thought of Warren Graham sleeping in his bed. He fell asleep listening to sound of soft breaths and crickets chirping outside.

•••

Warren woke up the next morning with a yawn. He turned his face into the pillow refusing to open his eyes. He buried his nose into it, breathing deeply before his eyes widened. It smelled like something...like, Nathan.

He lifted his head, turning groggily to stare at said boy. Nathan was curled into a ball, his hair unruly, and light bags under his long lashes. His right arm was wrapped around his body, and his left was stretched out across the bed. He followed it down to the center of the bed, eyes running over the valley of scars that rested there. He frowned, but his eyes widened at what Nathan's hand was attached to.

His pale hand was engulfed by Warren's, their fingers intertwined. He stared for a moment, completely confused. Why was he in here? Did he fall asleep? Why is Nathan moving?

       He looked up at Nathan who was groaning, and he quickly laid back down, shutting his eyes. He tried to take deep breaths, and he watched Nathan through a small curtain of hair.

       The other boy opened his eyes and yawned deeply. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly with one hand, and then opened them again. He stared right at Warren, and the younger boy's breath hitched slightly. Nathan looked down at their hands, and he smiled. Warren's stomach exploded with butterflies at the sight of the other boy's grin, but he immediately got a sinking feeling.

Nathan gazed at their hands, and he quickly glanced up at Warren before leaning down and brushing his lips over the sixteen year old's knuckles. His brows furrowed, and he detached their hands. Warren chose that moment to "wake up". He slowly brought his hand up to muffle a yawn, and he brushed his hair back.

        He sat up, eyes still closed, and stretched. When he stopped loosening up his muscles and finally opened his eyes. The older boy had been staring at Warren's stomach, and he flushed when he saw him notice what he was looking at. He looked guiltily at Warren, face bright red.

       "Why didn't you wake me last night?" Warren asked, his voice husky with sleep. Nathan's eyes widened, and he coughed twice.

       "Um, I tried to," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "But, you weren't having it, so I decided I'd let you sleep, and then, I...I'm sorry."

       Warren almost smiled at how uncomfortable the other boy was, but then he realized that he was starting to like how Nathan's face was flushed. When he blushed it started at his hairline, his ears turned pink, his cheeks bursted with red, and it slid down under the collar of his shirt.

       _I wonder how far down it goes_ , he thought to himself.

The sick feeling was back in his stomach. Oh god. He needed to leave.

       He jumped up abruptly, scaring Nathan off the side of the bed. He fell onto his butt and moaned out in pain. Warren almost whimpered at the sounds coming out of his neighbor, but he tried to stuff the sound and all the thoughts that came with it away. He quickly made sure he hadn't taken anything out of his pockets, and left the room. He didn't even close the door behind him, and he rushed into the safety of his bedroom.

       He sat down at his desk as began swirling in his chair, running his hands through his hair.

       _I'm not gay_ , he told himself. _Especially not for Nathan. Him and his stupid hair, and stupid blue eyes, and the way he hurts himself. Warren's breath caught at the thought of his schoolmate attempting to cut himself again. I just wanted to help him...but, of course I had to ruin it by getting angry with him. He didn't realize having the picture was a little creepy. He didn't-_

       All of a sudden his phone started vibrating. He looked at it on his desk, noticing that his battery was low. Max had texted him.

_Max: Hey! Ur late! Did you oversleep?_

_Max: WARREN! ANSWER THE PHOOONE!!_

       He texted a quick reply before shutting it off. He grabbed his backpack before sprinting out the door and toward the main building of Blackwell Academy.

•••

       Nathan decided he didn't want to go to class that day. He wanted to lay in bed all day thinking about how soft Warren's hand was against his lips, and how half of his bed now smelled like the boy. He wanted to lay around and think about the small amount of pudge he caught sight of around Warren's stomach when he stretched. On anyone else, it would disgust him, but on Warren, it was undeniably adorable.

       Nathan sat, curled up on his side of the bed, gently tapping the spot where his crush had slept only an hour before. It was already twelve in the afternoon meaning they had slept a lot longer than they should've but, Nathan didn't care. It was Warren that did. Nathan knew the kid loved learning (especially learning about science) and he didn't want him to blame the sleeping situation on him. Oh, Warren.

       _Warren_.

       Nathan bit his lip as he imagined the boy stretching again. And, oh god, how he sounded when he just woke up. His voice was slightly deeper than usual, gravelly in the best way possible. Nathan imagined that voice whispering things in his ear that are only meant for the bedroom, and he smiled more. That deep, husky...

Nathan's fingers twitched as they inched toward the waistband of his boxers. He ran his finger over it softly, then slipped it underneath, grazing the smooth flesh that ran between his belly button and his most sensitive areas. He laid back on the bed, maneuvering to get more comfortable. As he got settled though, he caught a whiff of Warren's scent. And it made him hard as a rock. So hard it was fucking painful. But, he felt dirty for thinking of the younger boy in that way. What would Warren think?

He quickly withdrew his hand from his nether regions, resting it on his chest instead and frowned. He pictured as many dead things as he could, until his dick was limp and sighed. He really needed to get out. 


End file.
